Civil War Women in Love: Lesbian Lovers Throughout Time Series, Book 3

by Rachel Windsor

  Kenda was silent. Not sure I can ever say that, even when I’m free, she thought. She continued her manipulations of the root, nervous.

  Jane’s eyes watered with emotion. “Because I know what you mean to me, Kenda. I have feelings for you. Strong feelings.” The rest of her statement was trapped in her by her upbringing, her station in life, and the times. She wanted desperately to tell Kenda, but her mouth wouldn’t obey. Instead, her hand moved, seemingly of its own volition, and took Kenda’s. Impulsively, she kissed it, her lips lingering while she looked directly into Kenda’s eyes. “Strong feelings,” she whispered.

  The fibers of Kenda’s being warred with themselves. She knew what Jane was saying could get them both killed—Kenda at least. Not only two women, but a slave and a white woman? It could never be. But another part of Kenda yearned for what Jane was offering, had imagined it happening only in the most private place in her mind, never thinking it would actually become a reality. It was that part that won. Taking her hand gently from Jane’s lips, Kenda moved to her and kissed her softly on the mouth. In that moment, there was no race to freedom, there was no plantation left behind, there was no concern about what others would say or do if they knew. There was only a perfect moment of pure love and happiness.

  Pulling back from Kenda with a wide smile, Jane could scarcely find the words to express what was in her heart. “Oh Kenda,” she began.

  A loud crack of a branch could be heard close by. Very close.

  Kenda felt all of the blood drain from her face. This was it, she thought, they were caught.

  Chapter Seven—Caught

  Immobilized with fear at the loud crack, Kenda and Jane stared at each other, afraid to look around. Kenda’s mind’s eye provided a possibility for what she might see if she turned to see who had made the noise—an angry white man, or men, with guns aimed at her. For Jane, it was different¸ she had no idea what to expect, for she had never been in danger.

  Kenda broke free from the paralyzing moment and looked in the direction from which the sound had come. Nothing. Staring hard, she caught a flicker of motion behind a tree approximately twenty yards away. Focusing on the spot, she saw more motion. This time it was more than a flicker. She found herself staring down the last person she expected to see—another black woman. The other woman peered around the tree and, seeing the two women in the clearing, slowly moved into view.

  “Who you?” she called softly.

  Kenda looked at Jane, who shrugged. The woman appeared to be alone and didn’t pose a danger. Turning back to the newcomer, she gestured to her to approach. After a moment of hesitation, the older woman walked toward them. As she drew near, her story became plain, without even a word being spoken. Her face, although regal and beautiful, was tired and lined with fear and worry—she was on the run just like them. She was tall and striking, likely a few years older than Jane and Kenda. Although she had wide birthing hips, her breasts and stomach were firm and tight, indicating she had not birthed any children.

  “Who you?” the woman repeated when she got close enough for conversation. She looked carefully at Kenda, her eyes taking her time. For Jane, however, her examination was skeptical and full of distrust.

  “Kenda,” Kenda offered. “And this is Miss Jane.”

  “Just Jane,” Jane interjected hurriedly. There was something about this woman that was intimidating and despite not even yet knowing her name, Jane didn’t want her close to them.

  Nodding slowly as she surveyed the pair the woman relaxed a bit. “I’m Alala. You two runnin’?”

  “Maybe,” Kenda said. She was young but knew better than to freely offer information that could be her own death warrant.

  Alala looked from Kenda to Jane. “You’re runnin’,” she concluded. “Just like me. How far you headin’?”

  “We don’t know yet,” Jane said firmly. She liked how it sounded—“we.” Kenda frowned at her. Jane meant well but she was still a privileged white girl and didn’t know that they could be in grave danger while on the run, even from a fellow runner. A slave caught on the run could escape the whip or even the noose by giving up a runaway rich white girl.

  “Mind some company? Three’s better than two when it comes to keeping look-out,” Alala said.

  Kenda considered the option and looked at Jane. Shrugging slightly, Jane deferred to Kenda without words. Inside, she didn’t want the woman to join them, but she knew that Alala was likely right about having three people to keep watch, allowing for more rest shifts. “I guess so,” Kenda said.

  * * * *

  Moving quickly, there was little time for conversation among the new travel mates. Alala took the lead and set a fast pace. Jane struggled to keep up but her pride kept her from asking for a respite. She didn’t want Kenda to think she was weak. Jane kept her mind off of the pain in her legs and feet and the burning in her chest by watching Kenda from behind. Being away from the plantation and her family, she felt a glorious freedom that she had never known. She liked looking at Kenda, watching her curves as she walked, and she liked how looking at Kenda made her feel physically. She wanted more and the thoughts of touching her friend at long last filled her mind so fully that she wondered if she was going crazy.

  Kenda followed Alala closely but ensured that Jane was never far behind. She knew Jane was likely having a hard time with the journey from a stamina standpoint but she didn’t want to embarrass her by asking her if she needed a break. Jane was a proud woman and Kenda wouldn’t stand in the way of that. Like Jane, she had mixed feelings about Alala’s sudden inclusion in their party. She had noticed Alala looking at her, all of her, and the attention had made her blush with embarrassment, but maybe something else. Kenda’s body was more alive than it had ever been—she felt like a woman, a real woman at last and knew that it was more than just friendship and warmth she was feeling from her travel companions. Turning around, she smiled at Jane, covered with sweat but never complaining. She had a sudden vision of the two of them, just the two of them, no Alala, sitting near a waterfall, relaxed, together, close. She could see Jane’s lips coming for her and kissing her. The unbidden image was so powerful and intense that Kenda was embarrassed to hear herself groan softly without meaning to. Miss Jane, what are you doing to me? she thought.

  * * * *

  The women made substantial progress that night, not talking or dawdling during their pushes forward, with several short stops to eat from their meager rations and rest. Even during the short respites, none of the women said much. Despite the near silence, a tension was growing. Kenda noticed that Alala was watching her closely and something about Alala was getting Kenda’s attention in return.

  After a final meal, the trio decided to bunk down for the night. The going had been hard, especially for Jane, and with the combination of stress of being caught and the physical strain, they were all exhausted. Amidst a small copse of trees, Alala made a small fire just to keep the chill off—and the animals away. Jane left to relieve herself beyond the campsite. When she came back, she was surprised to see that Alala had already made a bed and was stretched out. Catching sight of Jane, Alala called softly to her.

  “Come on over here, time for the first sleep shift, you and me.” She patted the layer of leaves beside her.

  Jane looked quickly to Kenda, who sat on a flat log near the fire. Kenda shrugged. “I’ll take the first shift, I know you’re tired,” she said quietly to Jane.

  Jane was instantly uneasy. She had kept her feet moving all day with the thought of lying down beside Kenda at long last when they stopped for the night. Now, she was going to have to lay down with the stranger? With Alala, who had been eyeing Kenda all day? Jane shook her head. “Have her take the first shift, she’s the one who invited herself along anyway,” she said. She knew she sounded childish and could feel the tears of frustration and disappointment welling in her eyes already.

  Kenda gave Jane a quick hug and whispered in her ear. “It’ll be all right. I’ll watch over you.”r />
  Looking over her shoulder to Alala, who was watching the scene with interest, Jane sighed. She didn’t want to appear weak, not to Alala and not to Kenda. “Fine.” At least she would have the memory of Kenda’s hug to fall asleep to.

  Approaching Alala, Jane looked uncertainly at the makeshift bed of leaves the older woman had pushed together. “Right here,” Alala encouraged. Jane was uneasy but did as Alala suggested, lying close to her on the leaves.

  “Thank you,” Jane said politely.

  Alala laughed easily. “Don’t think I ever had a white girl say thank you to me for nothing. Maybe tonight will be full of firsts,” she said suggestively.

  “Good night,” Jane said. She turned her back to Alala and watched the fire—and Kenda. Before she knew it, Kenda was softly nudging her.

  “Jane? Time to wake up,” she said. The night was still dark and their camp was quiet, except for Alala’s loud breathing as she slept heavily.

  Rubbing her eyes, Jane smiled at Kenda. Despite her aching body, the uncertainty of their immediate future and the miles yet to go, waking up with Kenda nearby was a joy she had often imagined but never known. “Was I asleep?” she asked.

  Kenda giggled. “From the sound of your snoring you sure were. It’s been about two hours I figure. I thought you should take the second shift. I want one of us to be able to keep an eye on this one,” she said, nodding toward the sleeping Alala.

  A stab of jealousy coursed through Jane. She didn’t like the sound of Alala lying next to Kenda, not the way she had been watching her all day. But Kenda was right, she knew. Disappointed, she nodded. Pulling herself up, she took Kenda’s place on the log and poked at the fire with a stick as Kenda lay down as quietly as she could in the leaves. She need not have worried, Alala never stirred.

  Jane stretched. Her body was sore and stiff from lying on the ground. Her stomach growled and she felt dirty. Even so, she had never felt more alive. She squinted in the dim light from the fire to look at Kenda, who had her eyes closed. Seeing the curve of her hip rise from the ground and her breasts, full and pillowy as they joined together as she lay on her side, Jane felt herself grow aroused. She allowed herself to welcome the feeling, telling herself it was okay and nothing to be ashamed of.

  * * * *

  Forty-five minutes later, Jane’s eyes shot open. Her first thought was one of guilt—she had fallen asleep on her watch! She had jeopardized Kenda and even Alala, who had trusted her. Shaking her head, she realized what had woken her up. Low murmurs and sounds of pleasure were coming from the pile of leaves. Specifically, they were coming from Alala and Kenda. Staring hard in the darkness, Jane could make out their two shapes, close together and moving as one. It looked as if Alala’s arms were around Kenda’s body, with hands on Kenda’s bottom. The leaves rustled and Alala’s deeper tone could be heard. “That’s all right, girl,” she was saying.

  Jane put her hands on the log, readying herself to stand up, to stop what was going on, and to yell at Alala to leave — damn any pursuers who might be in earshot. Before she could stand, Kenda’s voice could be heard.

  “Stop it, Alala. Get your hands off me.” Kenda stood up and as she did, Jane could just make out her face. She was angry. Looking at Jane, Kenda’s face changed in an instant, to one of chagrin and worry. “Jane, Jane, I was asleep. I didn’t know what was happening.”

  Jane got up quickly and rushed to Kenda. “Make her leave,” she said simply. She didn’t think about it before she said it. She just wanted Alala out of there, out of their lives.

  Kenda didn’t hesitate. “Get your things. Time for you to go,” she said firmly to Alala.

  Alala looked up at the young women, still stretched out below them, languidly. “I ain’t got to go nowhere. You don’t own these woods.”

  Kenda quickly gathered their bags and took Jane’s hand. “Fine. Don’t follow us.” Jane held tightly to Kenda. She felt as if she would never let her hand go.

  Lifting herself on her elbows, Alala watched with a skeptical grin. “Don’t worry. White girl, just so you know, Kenda liked what I was doing. Didn’t you hear her? I’m a woman who knows how to make her feel good. Think you can do that?” she asked with a nasty tone.

  Jane was silent. She didn’t let go of Kenda’s hand and tried her best to erase those sounds from her mind. Alala was right, she had been making Kenda feel good. The thought of it broke Jane’s heart and left her empty.

  Kenda didn’t respond, other than to repeat her warning. “Don’t follow us.”

  Jane and Kenda started walking, at a slow pace given the darkness. Both knew it was more than foolish to make their way in the night, not knowing who or what lay in front of them. But both also knew that they couldn’t stay.

  * * * *

  Neither said a word for a very long time as they walked. They continued holding hands, clasped tightly, as if to let go would signal surrender. Finally, Kenda spoke.

  “Jane, I wasn’t foolin’ with her. You have to believe me. I was asleep and didn’t realize until I woke up that she was…touching me,” she said. She was afraid to look at Jane, embarrassed and ashamed. Although unspoken, she knew she had somehow betrayed Jane’s trust and worse, maybe jeopardized whatever chance they may have at something.

  Jane swallowed the hard lump of tears in her throat. Try as she might, she couldn't stop reliving those few moments—seeing Kenda and Alala locked together, hearing the sounds of desire from Kenda. “I know I don’t have any hold on you. You’re a grown woman. So am I. It’s just…when I heard you, with her I mean, it felt like my heart might break.” There, she had said it.

  Kenda squeezed Jane’s hand even more tightly, her emotion coming through in the grip. “I don’t know how you’ll take this, but those sounds you heard… I had been dreaming. Dreaming about you touching me, me touching you. I was asleep when I made those sounds and in my dream we were making love.” Kenda peeked over at Jane, worried about the reaction.

  Jane stopped short, so abruptly that Kenda’s continued forward motion made her drop hands with Jane. “You were dreaming of me? Of us? Together? Like that?” She realized her words were coming out in short bursts, but so were her thoughts.

  Kenda nodded, still unsure of how this conversation was going to end. She decided to go all of the way. “I love you, Jane. Always have.”

  Jane grabbed Kenda and embraced her tightly. Her voice cracked with emotion when she spoke into Kenda’s ear. “I love you, too. With all of my heart.”

  Chapter Eight—Freedom

  Kenda breathed deeply. She was free. The air had never smelled so sweet. She let it fill her lungs, her soul and her heart. Was she dreaming? The last days had gone so fast and had been of such intensity she hardly knew if they were real. She examined her injured arm, which was real enough. She looked around the small room, her family was not here and she knew she would likely never see them again, not even her mama, which was real enough. But the thing that shook her to her core, that made her thankful she was alive, and that assured her that yes, this was real, was the sight of Jane.

  The two of them had made the rest of the journey into free territory uneventfully, making stops along the Underground Railroad and benefiting from the kindness of others, most of who looked twice when seeing a young white woman and a young slave woman traveling together. A close call at one stop at resulted in Kenda’s injury. Just as they had arrived, a search party looking for a small group of escaped men had barged in, forcing the women to take quick cover in a root cellar. In the dark, Kenda had fallen, injuring an arm. Thankfully, the search party had left without searching the cellar.

  The trip had seemed charged, from the moment Kenda and Jane confessed their love to one another. After that their trip to freedom had almost seemed secondary. Although both women were nearly dizzy with desire for one another, they had agreed to delay their exploration of one another until reaching free land. “Then we’ll both be free,” Kenda had said, “free to be together.”

  Jane h
ad suffered from the trip as well, physically and emotionally. They were still young women after all, and now each knew that they would be facing this life on their own, without the support of their family. They had each other, however, and for that, each was profoundly grateful. Having reached free land and being put up by a kind Quaker family while they rested and recuperated, they sat in the quiet, calm bedroom assigned to them.

  Kenda sat on the soft bed, relishing the luxury as she watched Jane come in the room. Seeing Kenda watch her carefully, Jane sat on the bed beside her. “Feels good to be clean at last, doesn’t it?” she asked. Her hair was still wet from the warm bath, the sweat and dirt and stress of their odyssey washed away, at least on the surface.

  They sat like that for a long while, simply holding hands. Neither had the

  courage to look the other in the eye. Eventually, Jane began caressing the hand that held her own. Emboldened when Kenda didn’t pull away, she made her fingers move more slowly, sensually—just a breath of a touch on the other woman’s dark skin. Kenda exhaled.

  “Is this okay?” Jane whispered. She knew she would die inside if Kenda answered in the negative.

  “Feels nice. Real nice,” Kenda said, her eyes closed. Without opening them, she joined her hand to the knot and began stroking Jane’s soft hands.

  If Jane’s heart had been racing before, it was nearly coming out of her chest now. She looked at Kenda, who still had her eyes closed. Studying the woman, who she had known for so long, it felt as if she was seeing her for the first time. Her face was relaxed, almost peaceful and Jane realized that she’d never seen her friend so at ease. Her smooth, dark skin was supple and young, even the years as a slave hadn’t been enough to mar her beauty. Her lips were full and moist. Jane moved closer. She could feel Kenda’s soft, regular breathing and wanted to be close enough to inhale her breath. In the next moment, Jane’s body took over. She kissed Kenda on the mouth. To her surprise, Kenda didn’t resist. Instead, she moved her lips, ever so slightly, to meet Jane’s. It was a moment frozen in time. Backing away, Jane opened her eyes. Kenda’s opened more slowly, languidly, as if she didn’t want to forget the kiss.